


Proof

by Sheila_Snow



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-23
Updated: 2006-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheila_Snow/pseuds/Sheila_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Turner discovers there are some things in life that just require proof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof

Jack Sparrow moved even further ahead of him, the swaying, rolling gait of the pirate almost hypnotic as he twined himself in and out of the heavy pedestrian traffic. Will Turner determinedly plowed ahead, although the more-than-usual amount of liquor he'd consumed tonight made this somewhat difficult. He was losing ground while trying to avoid the more noisome of the milling crowd, and he certainly didn't want to lose contact with the pirate now. He had come to the belated realization that Tortuga was _not_ a place to wander around in alone.

"Wait!" Will called out, flinching at the amused and interested glances that his raised, almost pleading voice earned him. Obviously, desperation in one's manner was something to avoid here also, as it seemed to be a lure for the human vultures that seemed to frequent this town.

Jack didn't even turn his head in acknowledgment, merely ducking underneath the flailing arms of a staggering drunk and then neatly swaying to avoid the clutches of a somewhat overzealous prostitute. Will bounced off another seedy-looking character who suddenly appeared in his path and sighed. The blasted pirate made something as simple as walking on a crowded street look like a ballroom dance.

Jack disappeared briefly behind a group of sailors bellowing loudly and so off-key that Will couldn't even tell what song they were attempting to sing. Will felt someone grab his arm from behind and wrenched himself free. Beginning to feel somewhat panicked, he yelled, "Jack, dammit, wait for me!"

There was no reply, and abruptly, no sign of Jack either.

Will stood up on his toes in the center of the milling throng, searching in vain for the dreadlocked pirate. The noise and the stench of this town disoriented him -- far different than the neat, orderly streets and townspeople of Port Royal. There were scents and sounds and sights he had no previous experience with, bombarding him from all directions like the changeable wind from one of the fierce tropical storms that so often blew through the Caribbean.

The noise level on the narrow street seemed to increase yet another decibel, the sound beating against his already pounding head like a hammer against anvil. Will flinched away from yet another grasping hand, swiveling around. He looked up and down the narrow street, warily eyeing the multiple unlit alleyways that seemed to branch off in all directions in no discernible pattern.

Reluctantly, Will came to the daunting conclusion that he didn't even know the way back to the _harbor_ in the condition he was in. The pirate had led him in and out of too many back alleys and cul-de-sacs in his night-long search for information -- stopping way too often for "just one friendly drink." When Will had first refused the loathsome swill they served as alcohol in these parts, the pirate had muttered, "not drinkin' isn't polite, boy, and in this town you don't want to be impolite, savvy?"

Since Will had insisted on joining Jack in his jaunt . . . and since the barmaid glaring down at Will had been at least 6'2", half as broad, and more heavily muscled than a stevedore, he had grudgingly acquiesced. The swill evidently packed quite a punch, however, as his current inebriated state would attest to.

A pistol banged sharply a few yards away, and there seemed to be equal parts screaming and laughter as a direct result. He backed away, not wanting to get entangled in whatever was brewing there. He'd learned his lesson about facing off an armed pirate with merely a sword, and that had been only _one_ pirate. Even if that one pirate had been Captain Jack Sparrow.

Will glanced down the street and squinted, his peripheral vision having caught an odd motion coming in his direction. There was a great deal of bellowing, screams and raucous laughter, with the crowd parting like waves before the prow of a ship. With the narrow street lit only by a few flickering torches in the moonless night, it was difficult to make out any further details, especially in his condition. Will simply stood there, mesmerized, as the commotion came nearer and nearer.

Whatever it was, it was moving fast, faster than most of the drunken and downtrodden residents of this decrepit town should be able to manage. Fascinated, lost and still disoriented, Will stood in the center of the street, blinking his bloodshot eyes and trying to focus on the oncoming disturbance. Along with the curses and screams, he thought he could detect a kind of "whuffing" noise -- a sound similar to that made by the large bellows in his forge.

Hearing at last this one familiar sound amidst chaos, Will waited, curious now more than ever to find its source.

The source found him instead, materializing in front of him when the few remaining members of the crowd threw themselves -- or staggered -- out of its path at the last minute. Huge and mottled blood red it was, with gleaming savage eyes staring banefully from a blocky head . . . and horns. The bloody thing had horns! Horns that seemed to stretch the whole length of the narrow street.

_What the hell?_

Will stared, mesmerized, the oncoming horns seeming to dance and waver in the flickering torchlight in an oddly graceful motion not unlike the masts of a distant ship seen on the far horizon.

A hand grabbed his arm and spun him, gasping, into a nearby alley where he was flung up against the grimy brick wall of a dilapidated building.

Turning his head and staring with wide eyes, Will watched the huge beast thunder past a mere handsbreadth away from him, stirring up clouds of dust in the ill-kept street and cleaving the night with an earth-shattering bellow. A madly laughing pirate sat abreast its withers, shouting and cursing as he waved his bottle of rum in salute.

The rumbling and shouts gradually faded away into the distance, and the crowd unconcernedly went about its way as if nothing untoward had happened.

"Have you no sense, lad?" a voice said into his ear.

Will tore his eyes away from the street as the voice of his rescuer finally filtered into his scattered wits. "Jack!" he said in some disbelief. The pirate made no move to disengage his hand from Will's arm, and Will was too relieved to see the grungy pirate to argue the point. "You came back!"

"Aye, and a good thing, too, seeing you don't have the sense to got out of the way of a stampeding cow."

"Cow? That was a cow?"

"You don't get out much, do you, lad?"

Will spluttered at the pirate's dry tone. "I know what a cow is, Jack, but that thing had _horns,_ dammit!"

Jack merely looked at him with something approaching pity in his dark eyes.

Will straightened up to his full height and looked down his nose at the pirate. "I'm not _that_ drunk, Jack. I know horns when I see them."

"Then you do realize that horns _can_ put holes in people?" Jack looked up at him slyly through fluttering lashes. "And that it's likewise a very _stupid_ idea to stand right in the path of 'em, eh, luv?"

Will opened his mouth to say something and then closed it with a snap when he realized Jack might have a point . . . . pardon the pun. He carefully disengaged his arm from Jack's still vise-like grasp, rubbing the bruised spot gingerly. Will lowered his eyes and mumbled a reluctant "thanks" under his breath.

Jack cocked his head and leaned in toward Will, blinking guilelessly. "What was that, lad? I'm not sure I heard what you said."

Will raised his eyes to meet Jack's, for some reason a little disconcerted at the pirate's closeness. You'd think he would have gotten used to the pirate's penchant for invading his personal space by now. "I said, thank you for saving my life."

Jack smiled brightly and waved it off with a languorous hand that somehow ended up back on Will's shoulder. "Ah, don't mention it, lad. I doubt if you'd have ended up with more than a mere puncture or two, seeing as Bessie's a bit of the forgiving kind."

Will crossed his arms and glared at the pirate. "'Bessie', Jack? You mean the Bessie with _horns_?" he asked.

"Aye, lad, just be glad it wasn't her mate, El Diablo. He's a might spot on the meaner side, that one is."

Not sure if Jack was once again pulling his leg or not, Will settled on a simple scathing glare.

Jack straightened, seemingly affronted, "I am serious." He crossed his free hand over his heart in emphasis.

After a beat the pirate looked up, cocking his head, considering. "Well, _ex_-mate now, I guess. You see, you'd be a tad on the mean side too, if you suddenly had something vitally important lopped off and were turned into a eunuch, if you know what I mean." The pirate pulled back slightly, squinting fuzzily as his eyes slowly lowered to Will's breeches. "Well, actually, I hope you _don't_ know what I mean. . . ."

Almost as if it had a mind of its own, Jack's hand slowly drifted down Will's side, following the path of his languid eyes as Will looked on in dazed, horrid fascination. Jack continued, "But come to think on it, you _do_ tend toward the cranky side more often than not, Will."

"Jack!" Will finally hissed as he batted the hand away inches away from its target, his face coloring. He took another half-step closer to the wall. "Why this obsession with eunuchs? I am _not_. . . ."

The pirate quieted him by placing a finger on Will's lips, smiling broadly. "No, lad, don't say it. I'm a pirate, and you've told me often enough that the word of a pirate means nothing." He cocked his head again, the beads in his hair jangling against Will's shoulder. "And actually, I'm beginning to wonder if the same thing doesn't hold true for blacksmiths." He nodded once as if coming to a decision and then leaned forward, his face inches from Will's. "There's no hope for it, luv. You'll just have to prove it to me."

Will's brow furrowed in anger, and he had the sudden intense desire to bite the finger still pressed against his lips.

Before he could act on that impulse, however, the pirate's face suddenly went still and he looked quickly left and right down the street. His eyes narrowing, Jack pushed Will further into the shadows, tightening his hand over Will's mouth when he started to make a questioning noise. His face dark and intent, Jack then leaned in towards Will's ear as if he were afraid to speak his words aloud.

Concerned and still jittery, Will leaned in closer to hear him better, his ears assailed with the clatter of the noisy town and the pounding of his own heart.

Jack's hooded eyes again warily surveyed the passing crowds before he placed his other hand on Will's opposite shoulder. Leaning even further forward until his mouth was almost touching Will's ear, he whispered, "I think we ought to be moving along, seeing as people are getting the wrong idea -- us being in this dark alley and being so close and the like."

Will straightened up as if shot, peeling off Jack's hands and giving him an affronted stare. The pirate merely smiled back lazily, raising a languid eyebrow. In spite of himself, Will warily glanced in the direction of said eyebrow and caught two brazenly painted whores with their heads together, looking their way and giggling. One of them waved brightly to Will.

Will gave Jack a mortified look and this time the pirate laughed aloud, grabbing Will's elbow and pulling the dazed blacksmith along. "Aye, Will my lad, sometimes I think you're too much an innocent for your own good!"

\-------------------------------

"Now listen, Will, this place is sorta on the rough side. . . ."

"No, really?" Will said sarcastically, looking up at the battered and positively gruesome sign for "The Severed Arms" tavern, dangling askew on what looked like two meat hooks. He couldn't see how this place could be more or less rough than the genteel establishments they had already visited. He was exhausted, halfway to being thoroughly drunk and wondering why he'd insisted on accompanying the seemingly tireless pirate in the first place. "I'm sure nothing is too rough for Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack stopped suddenly at the doorway and whipped him around violently by the elbow, staring balefully into his eyes.

Will tried to take a step back, startled by the intensity in the pirate's eyes . . . tried to take a step back, and couldn't, amazed anew at the strength in the man's wiry frame.

"You listen here, whelp, 'cause I'm not going to get myself killed due to your ignorance."

"I'm not. . . ."

Jack gave his elbow a warning squeeze and continued, "Here, you are what I say you are . . . or you'd best not be going inside at all. This place is dangerous, even for the likes of me, and I wouldn't be attempting it at all if it weren't for this damn fool quest of yours, savvy?"

The pirate gave him another soul-stealing stare and Will finally began to realize that the bumbling, affable pirate he thought he knew was, in fact, very much a pirate. And by all accounts, an exceptionally dangerous one at that.

Will swallowed and nodded . . . for once not feeling the need to get the last word in.

Jack eyed him for what felt like ages, evidently trying to gauge the sincerity in Will's seeming submission, and then he finally nodded.

As changeable as the wind, the pirate's face abruptly lit up again in its usual bonhomie, and he said, "Stay close to me at all times." He began to turn and then stopped. Clasping his hands together as if in prayer, Jack added, "And please, _please_ try not to do anything stupid."

Still a little off balance, Will replied, "Stay close . . . nothing stupid, right."

Jack cuffed him, none too lightly, on the shoulder. "Good lad!" he said.

\-------------------------------

The tavern, if one could call it that, was even more gloomily lit than any of the previous inns they had visited. Coming from the relatively well-lit street outside into the near total darkness, Will stumbled over an overturned stool and would have fallen if Jack had not once again gripped his elbow.

There was an amused guffaw from someone who was standing way too close and a harsh voice that called out, "Had a little too much to drink, have ye, lad? A little early for that, wouldn't ye say?"

Will automatically started to reply heatedly, until he felt Jack's knuckles rapping lightly on the side of his head. Stifling his retort, he allowed Jack to lead him to the far corner of the tavern, where Jack had to clear away several empty tankards from a dangerously lopsided table. The pirate sat Will down forcibly in an empty chair. Then, tipping an unconscious drunk out of another chair and rolling the insensible body out of the way, he pulled the now unoccupied chair over to sit close by Will.

Jack eyed the environs carefully, appearing to have no trouble seeing in the darkened, smoke-filled room. Seemingly satisfied, he grabbed the grimy apron of a passing serving wench and held up two fingers. When she nodded brusquely, Jack sat back and steepled his fingers. "Now, we wait."

Will eyed the tavern warily as his eyes gradually became accustomed to the gloom. He couldn't understand what Jack expected to find in a place like this. "Wait for what?" he finally asked, not liking the steely stares they seemed to be gathering from around the room.

"The rum, of course," Jack said brightly.

The barmaid returned almost as if on cue with the two tankards, spilling a quarter of Will's drink as she slammed it forcibly down on the table. Will gasped as the unexpectedly cold liquid sloshed onto his lap.

Jack chuckled. "I think she fancies you, lad."

Glaring after the barmaid, Will stood up abruptly and tried to brush the worst of the liquid off his breeches, muttering imprecations under his breath that would have shocked him a mere two weeks ago had he heard himself utter them.

Jack's hand suddenly whipped out and grabbed Will's forearm, pulling him urgently back down into the chair. "Sit _down,_ Will," he said fiercely.

Falling gracelessly back into the chair with the force of Jack's pull, Will turned his glare to the pirate, saying, "Now what?" much too loudly, having totally lost patience with the pirate's whims. "You drag me from tavern to tavern, have me drink far too much of this vile liquor, lose me in the streets of an ill-begotten town, almost let me get run over by a cow . . . dammit, _bull_ . . . and now you're telling me that some flea-bitten, clumsy serving wench has taken a fancy to me?"

Jack's hand never left Will's arm, even after he tried to wrench it away violently. The pirate's burning stare was centered past him, however, and he said quietly, "More than the serving wench, I'm afraid."

Finally feeling a small frisson of alarm that was doing its best to drown out his outrage, Will slowly shifted his gaze across the tavern. He squinted, but couldn't quite make out what Jack was staring at. It looked something like a large dark pillar, but that couldn't be right. This establishment was held up by nothing more than four dank walls and a prayer, and it couldn't be. . . .

The pillar moved.

Toward them.

Will's eyes widened as the largest man he'd ever seen stopped directly next to him, looking down at him from his mammoth height and finally smiling a very lopsided smile. The teeth flashed with gold, like Jack's, but there the similarities ended. He was dressed like a pirate, with a blood red cummerbund and matching vest, but the giant had nothing of the usual air of desiccated wasting away that so many of the other denizens of this port town seemed to exude.

"What have we here?" The voice was deep, dark and sonorous, something out of the tales of sulphurous caves and lethal dragons that Will used to covet as a child.

Will shivered, for once in his life wisely keeping his mouth shut. The tavern grew deathly still as well, with only the oblivious snores of the dispossessed drunk breaking the expectant silence.

The giant crossed his arms over his too-broad chest and said, "Come now, lad, ye were chatterin' away like a wee nightingale just a minute ago."

Will merely stared upward in bemused shock, wondering how the man managed to get around between the low decks of a ship without becoming permanently hunched over.

The big man leaned over, almost as if in direct consequence to Will's thoughts, and reached out a beefy, scarred hand to Will's shoulder. "You see, boy, me and the lads here were just commentin' on how boring this town has come to be."

Will glanced around the table and noted that they had indeed gathered an audience -- about a half-dozen or so flamboyantly dressed pirates, smiling brightly in what Will could only surmise was gleeful anticipation.

"Aye," the big man continued, his voice lowering still further. "The same ole poxy whores, and not a one of 'em with any spirit to speak of."

Will's head snapped around at that comment and he struggled to stand up, sputtering indignantly.

The man merely laughed -- a great booming sound like the rumble of far-off thunder -- and held Will easily into the chair with one hand. His other hand reached down to cup Will's chin, "Ah, I see yer not wantin' to disappoint ole Mercer, are ye now, lad?" The man's hand felt surprisingly like ice in the dank, humid air, chilling Will to the point that his jaw began to ache.

The dark pirate leaned down closer, and the big thumb caressed lightly over his lower lip. Will struggled again to rise, something approaching panic beginning to claw in his chest.

"Ah, if I might interject a word or two here?"

Will couldn't see Jack in his current position, but he was mildly surprised, and intensely grateful, that the wily pirate hadn't made one of his usual opportunistic quick exits.

The big man laughed aloud again. "Ah, _Captain_ Sparrow, of course you may." The hand released Will's chin long enough to wag a forbidding finger, "As long as one of 'em ain't 'parley.'"

Jack's voice was its usual flippant self. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The big pirate merely snorted in knowing amusement, his attention having already returned to Will's face, pressing under his jaw with his massive fingers, forcing his mouth open and carefully examining his teeth like a man preparing to buy a horse. He said, distractedly, "Two words it is then, mate. I expect to be a mite busy here shortly." The dark face lowered inexorably closer.

Will glared up at the man in helpless fury, his fists clenching at his sides and his stomach roiling. He braced himself to make one final attempt at freeing himself, although he knew it to be a futile one. Even if he could somehow manage to take down the giant, the man had a half-dozen of his crew with him. And Will just couldn't be certain that Jack would. . . .

"He's mine."

Will froze. The voice didn't quite sound like Jack's, but it had to be. It was coming from the direction of where Jack had been sitting at least, but the sheer menace in those two simple words chilled him to the bone, even though he knew it wasn't directed at him.

_But surely he couldn't mean. . . ._

The tone of that grim voice seemed to give the big pirate some pause, too. The bushy eyebrows rose inexorably into dark hair, and he straightened slowly, still keeping a restraining hand on Will's shoulder. "What did ye say, Sparrow?" The voice held equal parts disbelief and challenge.

Will took a deep breath and held it, turning his head slowly to look at Jack.

The pirate still sat loose and at ease in his chair, seemingly in repose, not an ounce of tension announcing itself in his body. But his eyes. . . .

His eyes looked like something from the very pits of Hell, dark and terrible, unflinching in their intensity and locked steadily on the big pirate's face.

"I said, 'he's mine,'" Jack repeated calmly.

One of Mercer's men muttered something under his breath and started toward Jack's chair -- a long, curved, wicked-looking knife appearing as if by magic in one hand.

Jack never even broke gazes with the big pirate, didn't as much as move one muscle in his body. He said merely, "Either control your dogs, Mercer, or send 'em outside. Wouldn't want someone to get hurt now."

Mercer merely chuckled and raised an admonishing eyebrow at his crewman. "Easy there, lads, let's not be too hasty." He smiled down at Jack. "Must say I'm a mite curious, Sparrow, never seen ye get quite so concerned about a pretty piece of ass before."

Will spluttered and made another attempt to rise, stopping only when the large hand closed hard enough on his shoulder to crush muscle against bone. The big pirate never even spared Will a passing glance, his head cocked and raising an inquiring eyebrow in Jack's direction.

Jack spread his arms wide in a familiar expansive gesture. "What can I say? I've taken a fancy to the boy." He gave Will a single quelling glance and continued, "Actually bought him outright from a rather reputable dealer. Paid good money for him, too."

Mercer's eyebrows disappeared again into his hairline. "You _bought_ him?" The big man's voice held all the disbelief that a true pirate feels about the thought of actually purchasing something, rather than merely taking what he wants. He looked down at Will's agitated face in amazement. "You bought him," he said again.

Jack leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Yes," he agreed, his voice bright and breezy, but his eyes still ferociously intent on the other man. "And I'm afraid that he wouldn't be of much use to you, anyway. You see, he's a. . . ."

Will's numbed and alcohol-hazed mind cleared long enough to blurt out, almost a reflex now, "I am _not_ a eunuch!" in clear bell tones.

Everyone in the tavern froze at his words, staring at Will's rapidly heating face and then, almost as if choreographed, down to his groin, much to Will's utter and complete embarrassment.

". . . virgin," Jack finished into the absolute silence of the packed room.

The big man looked down at Will, obviously puzzled. "How do ye know he's any good then?"

Jack simply shrugged his shoulders.

Mercer pulled Will up and spun him around, examining him minutely, still looking perplexed. "You paid _money_ for him and you haven't even tried him out yet?"

"Anticipation makes the eventual experience that much sweeter."

Will, exasperated at Jack's prattling and tired of being ogled like a prize steer, pulled his shoulders back and glared forbiddingly at the big pirate.

Mercer stared back at Will and then returned his attention to the still seated Jack. "He don't _act_ like a courtesan," Mercer said dubiously. He brought his hand up slowly towards Will's cheek and Will's eyes narrowed dangerously, daring the man to complete the gesture.

"That's what I mean," Jack said hurriedly before Mercer's hand could complete its journey. "He's been trained to be compliant only to his owner -- not much use to anyone else, you see."

Mercer's hand touched Will's cheek and Will swung at him, a little wildly given his current state of inebriation. The big pirate easily caught the swinging fist, spinning him around and holding him against his solid body with Will's arm trapped behind his back. When Will continued to struggle, Mercer merely notched the trapped arm up a little higher and Will froze, grunting in pain.

The big pirate smiled benignly at his captive, bending down to very conspicuously inhale the scent of Will's hair. Will snapped his head around and glared balefully. The big pirate smiled and cupped his chin again, running a possessive finger along his jaw line.

"Mercer," Jack said warningly, his voice low and dangerous.

Shifting his gaze almost reluctantly back to Jack, Mercer said softly, "Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove to me that the boy is yours," he said.

When Jack didn't reply, the big pirate stooped down to put an arm under Will's legs, lifting him easily into his arms. He laughed as Will clutched his shoulder, disoriented by the sudden motion and change in his position. Walking the few steps to where Jack sat, he released Will, letting him drop, and Jack caught him with a startled, "Oomph!"

Will shook his head to clear his vision, deciding against that particular motion in the near future since it caused his head to spin that much more. Blinking, Will found himself looking up into the kohl-rimmed eyes of his own personal savior . . . or nemesis as the case may be.

Dark, ardent, smoldering eyes that were _much_ too close for comfort.

Will tore his glance away and found that he was lying in Jack's lap, nearly horizontal and clutching Jack's upper arm for support. Before his addled brain could signal his limbs to move, Jack leaned down and whispered into his ear.

"For once in your life, boy, and for both our sakes, _please_ don't fight me in this."

And then Jack kissed him. It felt like nothing he had expected -- when had he been _expecting_ anything like this? -- and everything he could have wished for. It was darkness and light, it was fire and ice, it was air and water and sustenance and everything else he never knew he needed before now. Will trembled under the onslaught, his eyes closing and his mind shutting down briefly as if it couldn't assimilate everything. He only peripherally felt the heaviness in his limbs, the pleasure that arrowed straight to his groin, the moan that rose unasked in his throat.

When the soft lips finally left his, giving a final parting affectionate peck onto his cheek, Will opened his eyes to find Jack's face still close to his -- a satisfied smile on his face and contentment shining from his eyes.

"Woof," said a deep voice from somewhere directly above them. "Now . . . I might actually consider payin' to watch _this,_ that I might."

Will whipped his head around violently, having somehow momentarily forgotten where he was and the precarious position he was in. Feeling his face flush red yet again, he made a panicked motion to remove himself from Jack's lap. When the arms holding him merely tightened, he tried again, but his position didn't allow him much leverage and his face heated even further when he heard the knowing chuckles from the men surrounding him.

When Jack's hand settled gently on his face in an attempt to still him, something in Will finally snapped. With one arm trapped against Jack's body and the other severely limited in its range of motion, Will instinctively did the one thing to announce his displeasure that his current position would allow him to do easily.

He hauled off and slapped Jack soundly on the side of his face.

There was a moment's stunned silence as the echo of the stinging slap resounded around the stone walls, and then the room erupted into boisterous laughter.

While Will and Jack stared fixedly at Will's hand, both momentarily stunned by his impulsive action, Mercer stepped forward and punched Jack lightly on the shoulder.

"Aye, laddie, I think that about proves he belongs to you. Seems to be a trademark with yer conquests, I believe." The big man laughed again and wandered off, motioning with a jerk of his chin for his men to follow him.

When the immediate space around them cleared of chortling pirates, Will ducked his head and sighed. "May I get up now?" he asked politely, deathly embarrassed and not able to look Jack directly in the eyes. Truth be told, Jack's lap was far more comfortable than the torture devices they called chairs in this place, but he wasn't about to let _that_ fact be known to Jack. He was confused enough about his own unexpected desires and didn't want to try to mix Jack's in, at least not here.

"You never know, luv, someone may still be watching."

Will glanced around nervously and said, "_That's_ why I want to get up."

"Hmmm. Don't fancy an audience?"

"Jack!" Will made a move to rise, and strong arms tightened around him warningly.

When Will eventually stilled, warm lips descended close to his ear and whispered, "Not before I get an apology from you, whelp."

"_Me_ apologize?" Will mumbled. Those lips were nuzzling his ear now, a silky tongue extending to sensually outline the lobe, and Will was beginning to find it difficult to concentrate.

"Yessss." The soft exhalation of the single word was against the sensitive skin at the nape of Will's neck and he shivered. Jack continued his thorough exploration of Will's neck, stopping only to whisper again in Will's ear. "I don't think I deserved that, you know." Jack took the offending hand in his, stroking lightly in small circles over the palm.

"Of course you did!" Will tried to jerk the hand away, but he seemed to be having some difficulty with the muscles in that arm. All they wanted to do was quiver. "You had no right to. . . ."

Jack brought Will's hand up to his mouth and kissed the palm lightly. "Save your life?" he asked softly. His agile tongue darted out and began the same small circle that his fingers had begun earlier. "Or at least your honor?"

Stifling a moan at the sensations that hot, wet tongue was causing, Will said breathlessly, "You don't seem to be worried about my honor right now."

Jack brought Will's hand down from his face and smiled that fey smile. "That's different," he said brightly. His mouth descended on a finger and sucked the tip lightly.

Will wasn't able to suppress the moan this time and wasn't sure that he cared. He closed his eyes against the sight of Jack suckling contentedly on his finger and squirmed again, unable to be still. Jack chuckled, and Will felt the arm supporting his back shift slightly to allow a jeweled hand to rest lightly on his hip.

Belatedly realizing what his helpless writhing must be doing to Jack, Will froze, embarrassed again. "But _why_ is it different?" he asked in a desperate attempt to distract the pirate.

"Because you're mine, whelp."

\-------------------------------

Jack propped Will up against a convenient wall, out of sight, where hopefully the boy could manage to stay out of trouble for at least a few minutes. The lad was almost asleep -- the combination of the late hour, too much rum and the odd stresses along the way combining to make him sag alarmingly when Jack released him.

He tapped Will carefully on the cheek -- gently -- keenly aware that the boy would just as likely punch him as awaken from it.

Will moaned and tried to focus bleary eyes. "Jack?" he asked, looking around him.

"Will, I want you to stay here for a few minutes. I'll be right back."

The boy began to look a little alarmed. "Where you going?"

"Just back inside for a minute -- forgot my hat."

The bloodshot eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You never forget your hat," Will stated accusingly.

"Well, let's just say I had a bit of a distraction tonight." Jack was gratified to see the heat spread across the boy's face, and he realized that he'd be a little disappointed when Will got more of a tan to his pale complexion. That blush was downright intoxicating. "Stay _here,_ do you understand?"

Will opened his mouth as if to argue and Jack added hurriedly, "Unless you _want_ me to rescue you again, William?"

He got a pair of wide doe eyes and a quick head shake in reply, and Jack turned quickly away before the boy could come up with something else to delay him.

Jack stepped briskly back into "The Severed Arms," the lateness of the hour guaranteeing that there were few conscious customers remaining. Walking over to the only occupied table, he held out his hand expectantly.

The occupant of the chair smiled, gold flashing in the dim lantern light. "I see, as always, that you're a man of yer word, Jack."

Jack caught the hat that was tossed to him and smiled, "you already knew I wouldn't go far without my effects."

The man at the table leaned forward for emphasis. "If I were you, there's something _else_ I wouldn't be partin' with," he said.

"Him, too."

"You surprise me, Jack."

"I do try."

The man at the table smiled and sank back into his chair, the wood squeaking a faint protest.

Jack fished out the gold coins he kept sequestered in a secret pocket and with a practiced flick of his wrist, tossed them to the man at the table. "Thanks, Pete," he said simply.

The coins disappeared briefly inside a massive, scarred hand, and then -- with an equally practiced motion -- were flicked back to Jack. "This one is on the house."

Jack raised a questioning, suspicious eyebrow as he caught the flashing coins.

The man laughed at Jack's expression. "Let's just say, it was my pleasure. Truly, my pleasure," he said lasciviously. "And if you should ever happen to get tired of him. . . ."

Jack felt his eyes narrowing. "Hands off, Pete," he said tightly.

The man rose to tower over Jack. "No one's ever said Pete Mercer wasn't a man of _his_ word either, Jack." He crossed his arms over a massive chest, glaring down at Jack.

After a few seconds, however, the craggy face broke into a wide smile. "Aye, Jack, I'll leave him be, but a mite tempting, he was." His voice lowered. "And mite wicked of you, not telling me the boy was such a looker when we made this little arrangement."

Jack shrugged and smiled. "Pirate."

Pete laughed his trademark booming laugh and slapped Jack affectionately on the shoulder. Jack reeled from the blow, wincing a little as he rubbed his shoulder.

"I do have one more question for ye, though."

Jack made a rapid "go ahead" gesture with his hands, anxious to get back to Will before he got himself into trouble, again.

"Is he really. . .?"

"Really what, Pete?"

"A virgin."

Jack smiled broadly and made a point of examining his fingernails carefully, turning his hand left and right so that his rings flashed in the lantern-light. "Not for long."

Pete guffawed, putting his hands on his hips. "You're kidding."

"No. But don't even _think_ about asking me to prove it to you."

**end**


End file.
